


Homo Homini Lupus

by Bellator



Series: kissing knuckles (the menace) [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bottom Armitage Hux, Creepy Kylo Ren, Dark Kylo Ren, Dominant Kylo Ren, Forced Orgasm, Hate Sex, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Past Child Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Prostate Milking, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Top Kylo Ren, Victim Blaming, Violent Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 01:11:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15352926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellator/pseuds/Bellator
Summary: 'Ren clamps one of his large paws over Armitage’s hip, clutch perilously close to bruising. It briefly displaces Hux’s attention to that, to how he’s holding him like a breeding bitch, teetering him through his hair and waist.“Because that’s what you are, Hux. My rabid little cur, subserviently awaiting your Master’s commands.” Ren growls into him ear, voice ragged and husky.'





	Homo Homini Lupus

**Author's Note:**

> Damn, I've been meaning to put out a Kylux fic for almost a year now and f i n a l l y the time has come. This type of work is my favorite to create and also to read. I just LOVE me some fucked up power dynamics, alongside some violence. Lmao, I sound like a creep but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯. 
> 
> Also, Bottom!Hux is a fact, don't @ me, have you seen Domnhall's twinky ass in Crashpad and in Goodbye Christopher Robin?? He honestly ate. Dom!Kylo is a whole mood too lol.
> 
> Anyway, ignore my rambling and enjoy!

Not two full cycles after Crait, Kylo contacts him. He’s ashen, under eyes sable as his disheveled hair, expression twisted into something bitter, ugly, like the indelible scar that brands his skin. Hux hopes, as it’s the only thing he’s capable of doing now, that Kylo finally took the messages Hux sent him via datapad seriously, realised his title of Supreme Leader required attendance in this crisis. 

They’ve lost practically the entirety of the Supremacy, alongside critical resources it was handling. And, most unfortunately, Captain Phasma. She had been a substancial ally in Hux’s career, deadly if the situation called for it, as it once remarkably did. Phasma undoubtedly fought in her final moments, with fang and claw, fiercely. Vicious until her very last breath; spirit as savage as the flames that scorched her. He dares to concede that he misses her, her shrewd and strategic cool-headedness a balm to any rise against the Order’s favor. Admittedly, a great leader she was.

Such remembrances of prowess at control merely contribute to incite anger in Hux. The petulant man in front of him knows nothing of it, only understands how to demand and usurp, never quite grasping what the First Order’s principles are. Not that a megalomaniac, a delusional idiot like him, who believes the universe is trammelled around his hands, could ever respect the structure of a militarised institution, a ladder climbed through ambition, effort and blood. Something he is most certain Ren has never experienced, for he was chosen by Snoke, automatically taken in as the ghoul’s treasured protege, for unheralded reasons. But Snoke is gone, in halves, and Ren is unleashed, a mad creature with no longer a master nor a hand to lap at. Kylo Ren is Supreme Leader. And the idea can’t seem to wrap around Hux’s mind, though he’d been reminded of this heinous fact with Ren oh-so-kindly strangling him with the Force in the Supremacy’s throne room. If only he had some of these mystical powers, their feud would have ended much sooner, a definite solution to Ren. His gloves creak inconspicuously at his sides, jaw clenching at the possibility of smashing his fist into Kylo’s jaw, feeling bone give. However, as a man of war he is aware that in some occasions complacency is essential, and this time, for now, no battles were to be waged.

It doesn’t mean he doesn’t want kill him, that would just be unrealistic. Even as Ren sits silently on his bed, hunched over himself, glazed eyes directed over the brushed durasteel panels of his quarters, Armitage Hux hates him with all his will.

The quiet remains for a few more minutes, ending with Hux feigning to clear his throat, tired of this. “So, Supreme Leader, why did you request my presence?”

“You said I needed to embrace my role as Supreme Leader quickly, considering the weakened state of the Order. That I have to assert array and calmness in times such as these, of chaos.”

“Indeed.” He affirms, not sure of where Ren is going with this.

“General, in your messages you seemed so dedicated to consolidating my image, my person as Supreme Leader, and yet, I see through your façade.” Ren stops gazing ahead, turning his eyes towards Hux, charred ambers full of animosity, threatening to consume him. He stands up, becoming the unforgiving wraith that haunts Hux’s life, shoulders and chest broad, the few additional inches he has an undeniable advantage. The redhead curses himself for not having put his padded greatcoat on, cladded instead in his standard tunic. 

“You sly viper, you want nothing more than to take the throne from me. The Force has shown me, how badly you wish to see my head rolling, or better, with a _hole_ in it, from your _convenient little blaster._ ”

Hux’s pulse stutters, blood running cold. _How does he know, he wasn’t even conscious when—_

“You underestimate the Force, General. Born with a petty, small-minded mentality like yours will never allow you to fully comprehend its ways. You see, this is why I become so frustrated at Force nulls, especially those with so much power, like you. You’re a stupid vermin, yet, garner so much admiration, loyalty, over complete strangers. I observed this throughout my time in the First Order, and most evidently in Crait. These soldiers are not my men, my words fall into deaf ears. I cannot understand this alienation, but I recognise your influence.”

Ren approaches him as he continues, chests a few centimetres away, another intimidation tactic, “Therefore, you will stop with your traitorous behavior, I will not accept your evident displays of mutiny anymore. You will obey every and any command I give, in front of your subordinates and out of their view. You will assist in conquering their trust in me, they will serve me, and only my authority.”

“I can’t just make them like you. I don’t know if you’ve notion of how sentiments work but I can’t compel my staff to adore you after years of you terrorising them, it’s prepostu—“

Ren grabs him by the throat before he can finish his sentence, lifting him of the ground, Hux’s feet kicking futilely at nothing.

“Listen here, _Armitage._ Either you comply or you taste what has been reserved for you for a long time.” He brings their faces close, Ren’s expression scrunched into livid distaste.

“I—I understand, Supreme Leader.” He chokes on his apology, vocal chords too constricted to emulate words properly.

Ren drops him, letting Hux’s kneecaps crush against the solid floor with a dry thud.

“You’re an insolent pest, contaminating the First Order with your fetid ideas.” He spits, looking down at Hux, menacing shadow casted over his features.

Hux is still catching his breath, chest heaving as he gulps precious air. He’s grown accustomed to Ren’s attacks, his jagged offences disregarded. In minutes, they would end this and go back to their passive-aggressive existence, furtive jabs here and there until Ren snapped again. At least, Hux now rests assured he wouldn’t get murdered, he was needed. No more of that limbo, stuck in doubt and fear, when the title of Supreme Leader was situated in a context of transition. But, Ren’s tone in this moment irks him, somehow, something about it is unsettling, different from other occasions, _dangerous_.

“No more…” Kylo smoothly mutters, almost as if he’s talking to himself.

And before Hux fully processes what’s going on, he’s flung to the other side of the room, fortunately colliding into something other than a wall. Though, his ribs and flanks still protest at the impact. He recognises he’s on Ren’s bed, face planted into the man’s covers. He doesn’t have a chance to get up, Ren’s on him in a second, effectively impeding his attempt at escape. Kylo singlehandedly traps his wrist in a brutish hold, carpal bones creaking with the pressure. He’s straddling Hux’s back with his body, a massive weight that threatens to bury him into the mattress. With the Force, Ren manages to immobilise Hux’s lower half, legs laying stiff and static even as he tries to kick them, throw the Knight off balance and regain control of the situation.

Hux twists his neck to the side, one cheek against the soft blankets, enough to breathe, “What the fuck are you doing, Ren? Enough of your tantrums, unhand me!” He shouts, knows he’s red by now, consumed with anger and indignation.

“It’s time for you to learn your lesson, General. No more backtalk. This is for your discipline.” And Ren is sliding off of him, mass of his body gone, though the pressure trapping his arms and legs remains.

“What a pretty picture: General Hux lying down, at my disposal.” Hux’s blood boils, what was Ren insinuating?

Above the rustling he makes as he tries to scramble away, he hears the sound of Ren’s boots, becoming more distant. A miscellaneous clatter, as if he was rummaging through belongings; the steps reproach.

A presence hovers over him, the Knight’s umber too hulking to go unnoticed. Hux cranes his neck to look at the figure, only to see him holding something in his hands, a bottle of sorts. Ren tosses it, letting it fall besides Hux. He then feels the scrape of fabric against skin, jodhpurs and regulation underwear being pulled down his thighs.

“Ren! Stop, what are you doing—“

“Quiet, General!” Ren’s voice thunders in the room, mighty and absolute, the abrupt burst of fury frightening him into silence.

Ren picks up the flask again, uncapping it and pouring fluid over his hand. He spreads the liquid in his fingers before touching the pallid inner thigh of the redhead, who flinches at the unexpected sensation, “You should be glad I’m even preparing you, a more ruthless man would’ve left you to bleed, but I can’t afford a bridge without command, now can I?” Ren’s voice is child-like, fluttering with schadenfreude.

He hates this man.

“Stop this right now, Ren! This is absurd, stop with your inane games! ” Hux doesn’t think he’s ever been this desperate, voice cracking, but at the same time never has he faced a situation like this.

“This is no joke; you’ve had your chances to prove your loyalty, General. This punishment is simply a lesson: only the strong exert their will, weaklings like yourself must learn to bow, or you’re bound to suffer.”

It’s with these words that Ren penetrates him. The burn and ache his fingers cause is terrible, though the scalding humiliation comes close to it. Never did he think he’d be disgraced like this, sodomised by his enemy. A man getting fucked by another man—pure abasement. No other sentence could ever surpass this, this was as low as he’d ever get.

Ren started to move his fingers, scissoring them occasionally, coating Hux’s insides with lube. “You’re so tight, General. Has it been long since your last time?” Kylo says, full of delight.

“I’m not a heathen like you, you animal! I would never sleep with another man!”

“Really? But you’ve such soft and delicate features, I’d expect you indulge in these activities. Well, there is a first time for everything.” The fucking bastard.

Ren continues to move inside him, motions pervasive and not careful in the least. He’s biting the inside of his cheek, just to not let out any sounds; he wasn’t going to give Ren the satisfaction of hearing him in pain. The sharp, blazing sting in him mellows into mild discomfort as Kylo incessantly works him, body acclimating the unstoppable transgression.

He _could_ go through this until the end, soon Ren would stick his dick inside and hopefully come in a few minutes, finally letting Hux free. Yes, it would be over shortly. Hux’s mind starts to drift away, vision becoming hazy, unfocused. His ears become muddled, only the nervous thrum of his pulse can be heard. He still can feel the insistent and aggressive prodding at his hole, the heat against the back of his legs as Ren rest atop him, though his mind seems to brush it off, overwrite it as normality. He blinks once, twice, and the fog in his head persists. It’s a shame Ren doesn’t have a clock near his bed, Hux would like to focus onto something other than the slick sounds of flesh against flesh, sickening him. In just a few minutes, they’d get over this and Hux would be able to take a shower and rid himself of all this filth and abomination, scrubbing skin clean, grating alabaster to bare the striped scarlet of his muscles—

“Oh no, you won’t escape this easily, General.”

And Hux is brought right back to his reality, consciousness slammed into present. “You will feel every moment of this.” Ren delivers his promise with a grim tone that has Hux’s hackles standing. Hux’s can feel the edge to Kylo’s voice, bestial—this man hates him just as much as the general does, if not more. And now, Kylo, as Supreme Leader, has the permission to do as he likes with him, has him _helpless_ , of course the Knight is going to savour every abuse he can inflict on Hux. A wave of dread settles onto the ginger’s spine, fearing for the worst.

Ren’s fingers stop their exploration for a minute, making Hux swallow the lump in his throat with difficulty. _This is it, Ren’s just going fuck me, rip my insides apart—_

But then, he feels a stab of heat, visceral, a hefty blow to his guts. He can’t help but curl into himself, torso curving into a concave shape, breath coming out as a huff with the force of the sensation.

“Enjoying yourself, Armitage?” Ren spits sardonically, stroking that spot again, making Armitage clamp his teeth harder on the interior of his cheek.

Ren is ruthless, teasing his prostate in harsh nudges, repeatedly, almost milking it. He can feel his cock twitching, drooling against his stomach and into the sheets. It makes him dizzy, aflame with shame: one thing was Ren forcing himself on him, an inexorable power, the other was Hux taking pleasure from his rape. How could he even bare his face to his subordinates after this? What morale did a man who enjoyed being violated have? He was no worthy of being general.

“Give in. Let me see the true you, the one who’s ready to submit to me.”

“Shut...up, Ren!” He struggles with his words, too scared of letting embarrassing sounds bleed from his mouth.

Kylo simply ignores him, favouring his torturous ploy. The throb in his loins is only intensifying, as Ren pierces him conflagrant desire with each flick of his fingers. He’s on the edge, ready to fall apart. His prick is rock hard beneath him, jerking in warning.

“You may come, Armitage.” Then Ren twists his wrist just so, mercilessly pressing on his spot, and Hux is unable to do anything but stifle his voice as he finds release.

It feels better than any other orgasm he’s had before, leaves him breathless ; his experiences with masturbation and gawky encounters with girls as a cadet paling in comparison. And, it’s this simple fact that demolishes him. It wasn’t enough for Ren to strip him of his masculinity, he had to rob his dignity too.

This realisation has him coming down from his endorphin rush with promptness, ice cold of humiliation rooting him to the truth. The cloth underneath him is soiled with his fluids and there are tears gathering in the rim of his eyes, if they’re from pleasure or ignominy he doesn’t know.

Ren removes his fingers from him, wiping them on Hux’s naked thighs. He feels drained, body pliant, mind too vacant to immediately register the rough shuffling of garments. Although, his attention snaps back, as he hears Ren’s voice piercing through the dense smog mudding his senses, “Since you’ve had your fun, it’s my time now.”

Alarmed, he lifts his head, straining his neck to look behind him. Ren has one hand on the ginger’s hip while the other holds what can only be described as gargantuan. It’s at least nine inches from what Hux can see in dim light. Adrenaline invades his system, pushing his heart into a frenzy—Ren couldn’t possibly believe it would fit inside him, he would _tear him in pieces._

Kylo most likely notices the skittish bob of his throat, the apprehensive thoughts he has and gives a terrifying smirk in response, “I’ve prepared you sufficiently, besides, it wouldn’t be a punishment without pain.”

Ren proceeds to lay atop of him, covering his trembling back with his solid chest and his white thighs with the man’s own. The Knight’s hips slotting against his ass, the hot weight of his cock sliding against his cheeks, teasing his hole. His presence is suffocating, both physically and mentally. He knows Ren’s spying into his mind, predatorily stalking any soft crevices, harvesting his insecurities, vulnerabilities.

He’s stuck in this contradictorily cycle of wishing for Ren to swiftly take him and evading the merciless treatment he’s destined to get. It frustrates Hux, he wants to get this over with. Wants, as much as he’s frightened by Ren’s cock, him to just stick it in him and end this hell, round of cat and mice. But Kylo appears content enough with just taunting him, panting above him as he collects his pleasure. The man’s face is mere inches away from him and it makes Hux want to stuff his own aspect into the covers, smothering himself to death. Ren’s expression is twisted into a visage of pure concentration: brows knitted together, lids half shut, pouty lips slightly apart. He’s looking directly at Hux, dark eyes boring into Armitage’s very essence. He’s always hated when Ren looked at him, it felt like another invasion of his privacy. Like caught prey, Hux averts the man’s gaze, straying his eyes ahead. But Ren doesn’t let him dodge the intensity of his stare, gripping him harshly by the jaw, rough palms turning Hux’s face towards him.

Ren considers him for a moment, indecipherable, and Hux almost thinks the man’s done toying with him, bored and ready to snap his neck when Kylo clashes their mouths together. Hux resists for a few moments, unsure of how to react; why was Ren kissing him? It’s too intimate, an acerbic parody of passion, a mockery Hux takes personally. Ren swipes his tongue over Hux’s teeth and it’s in this moment, spurred by odium, that Hux digs his canines into plush flesh, tasting, seconds later, the metallic tang of iron coating his mouth. Ren retracts, taking his hand away from Hux’s mandible, covering his wound instead. There’s blood running down his chin, from his lacerated lower lip. Ren’s eyes momentarily widen, clearly taken aback by Hux’s bold reparation. He alternates between looking at his vermillion digits and Hux; Armitage can feel the taut pull of his own lips in a maniac smirk, teeth tinted red, a savage glaze over his eyes.

He expects Ren to retaliate, backhand him into oblivion, but he just stares. It’s impassive, no emotions coming through. And then, he fists his crimson hand in Armitage’s mane, pulling his head back, bending vertebrae, unsullied expanse of his throat exposed. Ren approaches him again, hot breath against the shell of his ear, “You brazen mutt, you haven’t learned anything, have you? Your place is underneath me, under the soles of my feet. I’ll sear this into the very marrow of your bones, even if I have to fuck it into you.”

Ren wastes no time, lining himself up against Hux’s hole before driving forward. It’s a type of ground shattering pain that makes Hux inadvertently wail. His eyes start to water as he snaps his teeth over his own lips, refraining from further dishonour. Ren’s cock fills him to the brim, stretching his walls over their limit. Hux genuinely thinks he’s going to die, surprised he hasn’t blacked out initially. Sudden movement sparks new waves of ache in him, air coming out in rapid, wheezing breaths. Hux has most likely torn something, can feel the prickly smart of his muscles. His ears are ringing with an acute buzz, vision once again going muddy—he’d be fortunate to just faint from an internal haemorrhage.

Ren clamps one of his large paws over Armitage’s hip, clutch perilously close to bruising. It briefly displaces Hux’s attention to that, to how he’s holding him like a breeding bitch, teetering him through his hair and waist.

“Because that’s what you are, Hux. My rabid little cur, subserviently awaiting your Master’s commands.” Ren growls into him ear, voice ragged and husky.

This statement, of all, is the one that belatedly awakens vehement defiance in him. He yearns to object, he wasn’t Ren’s damn _pet_ , he is the First Order’s general and the youngest one to achieve such feat. How can he endure this type of conduct, it is unacceptable for a man like him, he won’t stand this, his honor, values, wouldn’t allow this— _and yet, you came from very same hands that oppress you into capitulation, like a mere harlot._

_I’m not a whore! I was forced into this, I couldn’t contain myself—my body. I can’t—_

_Feeble; powerless._

_He’d never be as perfect as he is now, submissive, pliable—_

Kylo gruffly moans behind him, sound directly at his ear, “If only you remained like this forever, subservient, the Order would be unstoppable, singleminded, no more ulterior motives getting in our way. We’d thrive, General. Entire civilisations at our feet, wouldn’t you want that?” Kylo’s voice has become gravelly, frayed at the seams, affected by arousal as he starts to fasten his pace, thrusts invigorated, parched. It’s almost as though Ren grew inside him, cock thicker and longer, if it is even possible. It rubs against the entireness of him, every part relentlessly explored. It’s not dissimilar to how Kylo pillaged, in many occasions, Hux’s psyche. It’s just as abrasive, sinister; both resulting in a complete loss of control. Though this, as reflects further, is more petrifying, reduces him to a childlike state of mind, when Brendol’s beatings were most effective. He wonders what his father would think of him if he knew his son had been flouted in this manner, raped by a man, a _superior_ , Hux tartly acknowledges. Maybe Brendol would’ve killed him, too ashamed by the scum his boy became; Armitage wouldn’t have resisted.

What about Helin? He still can recall her, their time in the Academy. They had only been cadets when she kissed him, not his first nor most remarkable, though it had been bellicose and ardent. She had regal roots, bred from high command, and acted like so, pompous and proud. Hux recalls her dainty nose, keen clear eyes and small lips that perpetually seemed curled in a leer. Helin Hugo. What would she think of this? Most likely, she’d be disgusted, and, not surprised; she did always look at him with patronisation, as if awaiting his downfall.

A cruel tug at his strands makes him recoil from his reveries, “You keep thinking about others. I’ll make you pay attention again.” Ren furiously growls, repositioning himself, changing the angle of his hips and forcing Hux to suppress a desperate sob as Ren prods his prostate. With the new arrangement, Kylo’s cock inevitably brushes his spot with each move. The pleasure is so intense, electrifying, it borders on torment. He can sense himself hardening again.

The intermittent feedback of agony and carnality sets his spine ablaze, pit of his stomach contracting in afflicted lust. “So slutty, you’re coming untouched again? For your first time with a man, you’re quite enjoying yourself.” Hux blushes in embarrassment at the crude remark, whine chafing against his throat. He truly is worthless, a profane whore.

He comes after a few more well aimed plunges, pathetic moan slipping by his lips. Ren tightens his grip on his hip, letting a grunt out as Hux clenches around him, muscles contracting as he climaxes. The Knight’s thrust become even more brutal, brisker, as he chases his own release. He still maintains the same position, striking Hux’s prostate in every move. “Please…R-Ren, I can’t anymore, it’s too much!” He’s sobbing freely now, devastated with oversensitivity, nerves on fire.

“Shut it, we’re only done when I come.” Ren gutturally snarls, progressively nearing his own end.

Ren sustains his claim, hips only stuttering to a halt as Hux feels the warm spurt of release coating his insides. Simultaneously, Ren’s teeth dive into the skin over his carotid, perforating the thin exterior. He gives a few more ferocious thrusts into Hux’s warmth before pulling out with a low groan, forcing a mess of come and blood out of Hux.

Kylo unplasters himself from Hux, allowing the cool recycled air from his quarters to hit the redhead’s sweat addled body. Without Ren’s support, Hux’s head limply hits the bed, face first into the sheets. The Force restraints on his wrists and legs are gone, he realizes. Even so, he can’t move, couldn’t possibly face the aftermath, his rapist like this, after what they’ve done. He wishes Ren would just disappear, leave him alone to at least let Hux dress himself in peace, with some woeful modicum of decency. But he knows the man would never let Hux thrive in any way, his jubile was the general’s contempt.

Slowly regaining control of his limbs, Armitage tries to sit up, pushing against the mattress, raising himself from his position. He knows he makes a lamentable picture: the First Order’s general, with his sickly thin body evidently ravished, painted in ejaculate and blood, attempting to stand up, gather himself in front of the same man who wrecked him.

Whilst doing so, he feels additional globs of come ooze out of his battered hole. A flagrant flush overcomes him, knuckles going white as he fitfully fists the sheets. Ren probably saw that, his ass was still facing the man. His face was burning, ears accompanying the reaction almost instantly. He could throw himself in airlock with gratefulness now. He hastily pulls up his pants, previously bunched around his ankles, hiding the disgusting mess.

“You’re quite the wreck, aren’t you, General?” And the voice seems farther away from where Hux predicted Ren would be. He turns around to see Kylo languidly seated in a pitch armchair, hidden in a corner. He’s just staring at Hux, a lazy smile on his lips, blood clinging to them, a mixture of Ren’s own and Hux’s.

Hux compresses the urge to shiver as best as he can, though he admits he is extremely unnerved by this—by Ren devouring him through his wicked gaze, as if what had transpired between them had not been but a entertaining game.

His legs are still trembling, but he thankfully doesn’t stumble as he takes steps, mind blaring for an outbreak, urgently. He makes his way towards the door, skin itching at the ravenous scrutiny he was under.

He exits without looking at Ren, as he feels the heated impression of the man never leave his senses.


End file.
